The Beginning
by TeddyBear334
Summary: As the Gryffindors finish the Halloween feast in their common room, Hermione Granger gets much more than she expected. Philosopher's Stone.


Hermione didn't think she had ever seen so many sweets in one place. As the daughter of dentists, the sight of the three-tiered toffee apple display, candy floss ghosts, massive black and orange lollies, and biscuits slathered in icing was simultaneously off-putting and intriguing.

The table was laden with all manner of sweets, and it seemed that the Gryffindors were unwilling to let a mere mountain troll distract them from the chance to gorge themselves. The atmosphere was jubilant and lighthearted, and Hermione suspected that some people had already forgotten why they were finishing up the feast in their Common Rooms in the first place.

She watched from her place by the door as a black girl with braids piled on top of her head began throwing marshmallows into the mouth of one of the Weasley twins. Onlookers shrieked gleefully as whichever twin it was made a great show of attempting to catch them. Hermione could see Lavender and Parvati sitting on the edge of one of the sofas and giggling with one of the third year girls.

A few people had turned to look at her when she had climbed through the portrait hole long after everyone else had been banished to the common rooms, but no one had said anything about it. In fact, no one had said anything to her at all. Hermione frowned into the carpet.

Her time at Hogwarts had been far worse than primary school had ever been, which was saying something. The thought of primary school made her cheeks burn. She had promised herself that this would be different. There was even a list, packed away in between the recesses of her trunk so that her dormitory mates wouldn't stumble upon it. _Hermione's Goals for Hogwarts._

The first item on the list had been to find friends. But Hermione Granger, the peculiar little girl whose room cleaned itself and whose idea of fun was a textbook, hadn't even managed to do that.

But at least she had been able to go home to her parents in primary school. There was no escape from people like Lavender Brown and Ron Weasley at Hogwarts. Hermione had tried to make friends with a few of the Ravenclaws, but they had been standoffish and not at all willing to accept a Gryffindor into the fold. Which was unfair, because Hermione was almost sure she wasn't even a Gryffindor in the first place.

Especially after tonight. Ron and Harry had stormed in and started casting spells at the troll, and what had she done? Cowered in the corner. She had felt so superior after that charms class when she mastered the Levitation spell first of anyone, including Ron. But when the moment had come to use her new-found magical powers, she had frozen up. It was Ron who had the presence of mind to cast Wingardium Leviosa in an emergency. All of the cleverness in the world was useless if Hermione couldn't get up the nerve to defend herself.

Truthfully, she wasn't sure why she was waiting for them. They might not even want to talk to her anyway. A single lie to McGonagall wasn't enough to earn their eternal loyalty or something ridiculous like that. What was she expecting? That Harry and Ron would run into the common room and throw their arms around her and invite her sit with them at meals?

Back in primary school, Hermione had done a lot more for a lot less in return.

The Fat Lady swung open all too suddenly. Hermione wanted to retreat into her dormitory and draw the hangings, but Harry and Ron were already stumbling through the portrait hole. Ron was scanning the room for something, and despite Hermione's best efforts to fade into the background, he caught her eye and nudged Harry. They made their way toward her, through the mess of people and oversize furniture.

The three of them stood face-to-face for a moment. The boys shifted their weight and Hermione prayed that she would sink into the plush carpet.

"Erm—" said Harry finally.

"Thanks," said Hermione, just as Ron and Harry said the same. She stared at a point over Ron's shoulder. Harry was looking at the floor and Ron had fixed his gaze in the general vicinity of Hermione's kneecaps.

"Dessert, d'ou reckon?" said Ron awkwardly.

Did that invitation include Hermione? He had been staring at her knees when he suggested it. Maybe that counted.

Harry nodded and the boys made their way over to the calorific dessert table.

Not sure she had been invited in the first place, Hermione skittered along half a pace behind them. Not one of the older students seemed to have noticed the sudden arrival of two more first years at a time when the entire school was supposed to be in their common rooms. She hung back, clutching an empty plate as Ron and Harry began piling their plates with dessert. Harry looked as though he had taken half the treacle tart, and had balanced the rest of his "dinner" on top of the treacle. After a moment of conflict, Hermione chose two small cakes. They looked like the sponge ones her mother bought her on very special occasions, only they were orange and purple instead of pink and white.

That was enough, wasn't it? Two cakes were a perfectly suitable dessert for a normal person.

As the tallest, Ron scanned the room. "There are three seats there," he said, gesturing with the piece of liquorice in his hand. Hardly daring to hope, Hermione followed the other two as they made their way to three identically worn wingback chairs pushed into a loose circle.

Hermione sat stiffly in her chair, her meagre plate of dessert balanced on her knees.

"Why'd you only get those things?" Ron asked in a voice slightly muffled by the piece of liquorice he had shoved into his mouth.

"I just—I don't really eat a lot of sugar." Oh god, she couldn't be more priggish. Any moment now they were going to laugh and ask her to leave.

"Why not?" Harry asked. At least Harry had the decency to ask the question _before _stuffing a huge forkful of treacle into his mouth.

"My parents are dentists," said Hermione, anticipating the pitying glances.

Harry made a sympathetic little grimace, but Ron looked perfectly baffled. "Is that a muggle thing? Dentassists?"

"Dentists," Hermione corrected automatically. "They're like doctors. Or I don't think the wizarding world has those either—Erm, they take care of your teeth."

"What, like you give your teeth up to them?" said Ron bemusedly.

"No," said Hermione, giggling a little. "It's like you open your mouth and they look inside and tell you that you have plaque on a few teeth and you had better brush more."

"Like Oral Healers."

"Maybe," said Hermione uncertainly.

Ron shrugged. "Why does that mean you can't eat desserts?"

"It just means I'm not supposed have too much sugar."

"If you can't eat much sugar, you shouldn't waste it on a few cakes," said Ron, in the voice of one who was saying something very serious and sensible.

"What's wrong with that?"

"That's just—It's—" Ron looked as though he was struggling to decide how to explain something very fundamental to a small child. "Well, you aren't getting to eat anything else," he finished lamely. When Hermione looked unimpressed, Ron broke off a piece of his candy floss ghost. "Here, try a bit of this."

Hermione took it awkwardly and popped it into her mouth. It melted on her tongue and coated her mouth with the taste of homemade vanilla icing with a hint of those sugar-free butterscotch sweets her mother liked. Ron must have been able to tell that she had enjoyed it, because he smirked.

"Now this one," said Ron, handing her a bonbon from his plate.

"Can't I just have more of that?" said Hermione, gesturing to Ron's candy floss ghost in an uncharacteristically whiny tone.

Ron shook his head vigorously. "If you're not going to eat much dessert, then you have to try a bit of everything."

Hermione obediently put the bonbon in her mouth. It might have been Hogwarts magic or simple inexperience, but the heady taste of cherry and dark chocolate was like nothing she could never remember.

Ron grinned triumphantly at her expression. "Right," he said, rising suddenly. "I've got to get you some more."

Hermione didn't bother to protest. Ron hurried across the room, leaving her and Harry alone.

"Thanks," Harry said, possibly to fill the slightly awkward silence between them. "For getting us out of trouble."

Hermione looked awkwardly at her plate. "You and Ron were the ones who knocked it out. I couldn't even do anything." The secret that had gnawed at her since September tumbled unexpectedly from her lips. "I shouldn't be in Gryffindor."

Harry shrugged. "There's always next time."

"What?"

"It's only Halloween and we've already met a three-headed dog and a troll," said Harry. "Maybe next month it'll be—I dunno—a vampire or something." Harry looked rather exhilarated at the prospect.

"I think vampires are mostly normal," said Hermione. She ought to have been more horrified by the idea of meeting another dark creature, especially when she hadn't even washed the plaster from the girls' bathroom out of her hair. "I read in one of my books that most of them are tame anyway," she told Harry. "If you come across a rogue vampire, you're supposed to conjure up a bit of garlic."

"You see, that's why we need you around," said Harry, his face breaking out into a wide smile. "What would Ron and I have done if we met a vampire in a dark corridor? Another Wingardium Leviosa?"

"You could try sticking your wand up its nose again, Harry," interrupted Ron. He passed Hermione an overflowing plate and threw himself into his armchair.

Harry gave a mock bow and jabbed Ron in the side with said wand. Ron howled about troll bogies and began pelting Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans at him. Hermione took a bite of her custard cream, feeling something warm in her stomach that had nothing to do with dessert.

- Fin -

**A/N:** Thank you to Cleo for her excellent brit-picking! Any remaining Americanisms are mine. Without her, Hermione would probably be eating Twinkies.

Reviews make me a better writer.


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